


Give me something to look forward to

by iiStarnet



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Coma, Depression, Homelessness, M/M, Norway is pretty nice im ngl, Time Travel, Tord hates himself, communism time babey
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-09 16:18:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19479532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iiStarnet/pseuds/iiStarnet
Summary: It's been almost 3 years since the Giant robot. A year and a half spent lying in a bed completely comatose. When Tord wakes up and finishes his physical therapy, he gets the boot.Guess he's not such a big strong soldier after all.





	1. Stumbling onward

11 PM.

One hour from midnight.

Where everyone in Norway was sound asleep in their warm beds, a man walked outside wearing nothing but a coat of misery.

If it wasn’t for his impaired hearing, Tord probably could have heard snoring as he walked down the streets of Oslo.

It was absolutely pouring rain, with the rolling sounds of thunder overhead. It would have been the perfect sounds to fall asleep to. You know if you were lying in a dry and cozy environment.

The water running down the slightly slanted street did not help with the slight limp the Norwegian had. He had accepted the fact that no amount of Physical Therapy would ever restore his body to the way it was before.

You never really notice you good you have it, until it’s gone.

Among the sound of booming thunder and the patter of rainfall, another sound cut through Tord’s conscience. The horrendous growl of a hungry stomach was yet another burden to Tord.

He had been discharged from the Red Army, even though he was such a high rank. His failure itself may not have led to the discharge, but it was the shape of his body that really did it in.

After the destruction of his Giant Robot, Tord had been comatose for about a year. His body was steadily draining the army resources, and as much shame the High rankings felt, he needed to be gone soon.

They were in the midst of planning out how to make it seem like his heart finally gave up, when word came to them that he had finally awoken from his coma.

They tried to make it seem formal, but Tord knew damn well, that those bastards were internally beaming with joy. They finally had an excuse to get rid of him.

Because that’s what Tord was. A burden.

A selfish prick that had an amazing life just set up for him. 3 roommates, decent rent, and a good neighborhood. 

And he threw it all away.

Tord’s internal brooding was interrupted again by his stomach. He cursed every possible thing he could. The weather, his friends, his co-workers, the red army, even the grass itself was treated with a friendly “Fuck you” from him.

Tord surveyed his surroundings and his eye landed on a bar/café.

He had to squint to make out the Norwegian text on the glowing sign.

“Pay what you can.”

Thank the fucking lord.

While Tord wasn’t happy with his appearance, he was thankful that his face was so deformed that no one recognized him.

It’d be pretty awkward to have a terrorist in your bar, after all.

He scanned over the menus and their selective prices.

He thought about a nice glass of beer, before his stomach shut the alcoholic in him up.

As Tord waltzed over to the seating area for the café, he took out all the money he had.

Thankfully it wasn’t soaking wet, but it sure as hell wasn’t what he deserved for serving more than the amount of time required for the army.

 _“Communists, yeah fucking right…”_ He grumbled under his breath. _“Not even Stalin would treat my gay ass like this,”_ Tord hissed quietly to himself. His voice was full of venom, and echoed of disdain to every human face he saw.

Well, almost every human face.

“Excuse me, sir?”

Tord seized up, fearing the worst, as he hesitantly looked over to the Barista who had approached him.

A small dainty woman with blonde hair tied up into a neat bun stood facing him. Her face was coated in concern like dew on a summer morning.

“Sir, do you have anywhere to sleep tonight?”

That, uh. That really took him by surprise.

Tord’s face flushed before he remembered what his life was like before moving to the UK. How everyone was hospitable, and that the prison cells in Norway were more like a 4-star hotel room. 3-stars at the worst.

He shook his head in a poor attempt to shake the memories of being threatened by inmates in the English prison he spent a good 2 years in. He looked up at the Barista, and tried to pull of the most caring expression he could manage.

“I-uh, Yes!” The words were essentially a squeak coming out of his mouth.

Tord cleared his throat and answered again.

“I-I’m sorry I don’t look that great. I’m kinda having a rough day.” Tord finished the sentence with a dry chuckle.

He glanced up at the barista to see if she bought his story. While her face softened, she still seemed worried.

“Well, there is a shelter down the road, it’s on-“ she spoke, before being interrupted.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m not _homeless_.” The words were cold and icy in contrast to the warm and dry environment the café provided.

The blonde women winced, and Tord mentally slapped himself while trying to remember his manners.

“I-im sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude…” Tord murmured solemnly, as he looked down at the table.

**What a pathetic creature. Can’t even look at someone in the eyes while apologizing. Shameless.**

Tord proceeded to grab a few kroner and ask how much this can get him for the evening.


	2. Escape

As lightening streaked across the sky, a thunderous **BOOM** echoed across the city. The sound of harsh rainfall almost drowned out the electrical humming in the air.

In an alleyway, the air seemed to jitter and shift.

Another lightning bolt streaked across the sky, while a flash of light shimmered in the alleyway.

The flash became stronger and denser, as though every single electron in the area seemed to start vibrating.

When the light reached peak brightness, it suddenly dissipated and left a large figure in its presence. 

* * *

_Gunshots could be heard as the fugitive ran down the corridors. The endless hallways of the Prime Base were dizzying to Edd Gold as he sprinted throughout the facility._

_Those traitorous bastards were hot on his tail as he ran away from his judgement._

_“EDD!” A loud voice rang to Edd’s ears. He flinched as he continued his escape, trying not to pay attention to the generals chasing after him._

_“Damn it, Edd! You can’t keep doing this! Stop running!” Another voice came through Edd’s senses. This one was a tad bit more gravelly compared to the original voice._

_The already insane amount of adrenaline rushing through Edd’s body doubled as he heard a crowd of footsteps added to the chase._

_Fuck._

_He had no choice, it was do or die, and by god if death were a choice right now, he’d welcome it with open arms._

_But Tord wasn’t like that._

_Edd knew deep down that if he got caught, he’d spend years in a dirt prison cell begging for the sweet release of death._

_And the Red leader himself, wearing that insufferable grin on his ugly, scarred face, would make sure the grim reaper would never make it._

_Edd pulled up his coat sleeve and pressed the power button on the time machine._

_He didn’t care where he was, he needed to be gone._

_Gone from this fucked up Future._

* * *

When the sound of rainfall finally registered in the Englishman’s brain, he snapped to attention.

While surveying his area, he could tell that he was far before the Red era. His body loosened as he let out a breathy sigh of relief. It wasn’t long till his legs started to ache.

The adrenaline had done its job. Now he was safe.

He was safe, right?

When the thought of more danger reared its ugly head, Edd looked over to time travel device taped to his forearm.

_July 5 th 2019, 23:15._

“Only 3 years away,” He mumbled to no-one in particular.

Edd Gold let out a large groan before standing up and trying to get in a dry spot in the rain. However, it quickly became clear that although he was in an alleyway, he was in an open one. He let out a disgruntled sigh as he made his way out of the alleyway to look down the street.

His blood ran cold when he recognized the Norwegian writing on all the signs. While he could understand it, he had a tendency to confuse it with other Scandinavian languages.

He looked down again at the time travel device, while trying to remember Red’s stupid monologue.

The not-fugitive decided he was in the clear when he saw a fresh poster for Tord.

_Wanted  
£2,000,000_

“Oh, now he’s even more expensive,” Edd chuckled to himself. Humor had quickly become a coping mechanism for him. He never considered it a bad one till he caught himself laughing at a corpse.

Edd turned right and stumbled down the street.

_“Man, I really got to get somewhere dry.”_

Edd turned his head and tried to use the moderate amount of Norwegian he had learned over the years to decipher the signs and lights around him.

“Laundromat… Bank… wait, they have Chinese places in _Norway_?” Edd looked over at the venues on the street before his eyes landed on a café/bar-mix.

The Englishman felt something in his gut about that place, almost as though there was something… important…in there?

He sighed while slithering his hand into his pocket, and was thankful to find some euros in there.

“At least those commies didn’t take my money,” Edd grumbled underneath his breath. He smirked slightly when he heard his own words, reminded of an old friend of his.

**An Old friend that was just chasing you down the hallways of an Army base. An Old friend who would feed you lead on a silver platter just for the sake of kissing Tord’s ass.**

Edd tried to shake his head to clear the thoughts and began walking towards the eatery.

When inside the dainty little café, he took off his drenched coat and held it in one arm. Edd looked over at the menu and realized he was carrying Euros. He simply hoped that they would accept his money here.

As the Brute sat down on a high chair, he began to relax and started to survey his environment. He saw about a dozen people scattered throughout the eatery. Some couples, and some loners. He scanned the several paintings and plants around the area. Added with the light yellow walls and oak tables, it made for a very aesthetically pleasing environment.

A waitress came up to his table and greeted him in a friendly and hospitable manner. After a bit of confusing his words, and apologizing for his shitty language skills, he got a simple Pork sandwich with some greens served on wheat bread, along with a light beer (After finding out they don’t carry cola here.)

The smooth jazz that echoed throughout the diner was incredibly calming, and Edd was honestly starting to get sleepy.

His eyes scanned the area once again, this time looking at the night life in this little eatery. He saw a few young couples whom were obviously here to sneak out, saw an older man typing away on a laptop, saw an old cheery couple chatting away with a few glasses of wine. His eyes then trailed over to a corner of the diner, landing on a lone figure.

Something about him seemed off to the Englishman, as he concentrated on the other man’s features.

His blood ran cold when he saw the scars on the right side of the man’s face.

The scars that he recognized by heart.

The scars on the face of the dictator who stared down at him when his drones finally gave him what he wanted.

Tord. Fucking. Larkson.

In this Fucking Diner. Right here, in the same time as him. Acting like he’s minding his own damn business.

**That son of a bitch. He’s here to mock me.**

Edd’s thoughts were interrupted by a harsh, almost crunchy coughing.

He didn’t even realize how tense he became until his body seemed to relax slightly.

Edd was in the middle of planning out how to end this motherfucker, and then he realized.

Tord was in a coma for a whole year, wasn’t he?

Edd remembered the more annoying part of Red’s super villain monologue, where he vented about the “vultures” running the army he was in. How they whisked him out of his “home” without a care for his well-being.

He hated to admit it, but seeing the frail man in that corner of the café, awoke deep repressed feelings inside the fugitive’s cold heart.

Feelings of care, and genuine worry.

The old days where Edd would walk in on his roommate passed out on his desk, with chicken scratch coating every single paper in sight. The sadness that washed over him as he saw Tord work himself to the bone over something that he back then, had no idea over what for.

Back when Tord’s smiles were genuine.

_Back when they were old friends._

A deep ache resonated within Edd’s heart as those feelings reared their disgusting heads at him once again. Feelings he thought for sure were gone.

He exhaled deeply, and tried to find the feeling in his arms and the cold metal that he’s forced to call his “Legs.”

Against Edd’s better judgement, he got up, grabbed his food, and started walking towards the solemn corner of the Diner.

Maybe there was a chance, after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> while writing the end of this chapter i tried to get in the mood of putting on emotional piano music and it hurt <:(


	3. Meanwhile

_Deep breath in, deep breath out._

_It’s fine. It’s all going to be fine._

_You can’t just snap at your…_

Red Leader looked over at the two pathetic men he assigned as generals.

He felt nothing but anger and disgust.

“Where. Is. Edd.” A harsh, artificial voice slithered its way out of the cruel dictator’s throat.

Tom Ridge and Matt Greaves both winced.

They hated breaking the news to Tord.

A man who’s living in a good age, yet poisoned by stress, smoking, and his sanity. When you’ve been subjected to the harsh, unforgiving world and you don’t have a dime on you, you tend to lose what little sense of hope and compassion there is.

Most good people would use their power to give to the needy, and inspire hope to others. To keep them from experiencing the same thing they did.

Tord is not a good person.

He took their prolonged silence as proof of their failure. Red leader growled in anger and frustration.

The machine lodged in his throat vibrated again. Giving the illusion of a voice to the torn muscle that once was there long ago. The deep base of the machine echoed up Tord’s esophagus as he snapped at his generals.

**_“WHERE. IS. EDD!?”_** The sheer volume of his rage made Matt cover his ears, while Tom looked up at his superior.

“He’s gone. Again.” The monotonous voice answered the fuming emperor standing in front of him.

Tom watched Tord, expecting him to yell out in frustration, throw something at him, or just explode in general.

He watched as Tord’s breathing became even heavier, as his jaw clenched.

The two watched their Leader sink to the floor with tears spilling out of his one eye. 

* * *

_After everything Tord’s done, everything he’s offered to Edd._

_He still manages to slip through the cracks._

_That image of Edd scowling at him, when Red finally had the Fugitive in front of him was burned into his mind._

_He didn’t understand._

_Tord offered a cure for Tom’s cancer, a cure for his blindness. Tom managed to rebuild that burned bridge._

_Tord offered food and shelter to Matt, a place where he could feel safety. Matt forgave him, and moved on with his life._

_Tord offered the fucking stars for Edd. All the cola he could drink, Wear whatever uniform he wanted, eat whenever he wanted. He would be looked after like the child of a compassionate billionaire._

_Nothing._

_Tord isn’t a good person._

_But god if he didn’t try his hardest._

* * *

These thoughts paused when Red felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see his Generals staring down at him, concern and sorrow painted over their faces.

Another sob left Tord as his comrades surrounded him in a hug. For the moment, he accepted this show of affection and empathy.

“Where is the other time machine…?” Red’s voice had become weak and low.

“It was broken, sir,” Matt hesitantly replied.

There was nothing but silence in the room for a bit after that.

“I’m going to make another one.” The artificial voice chirped suddenly, making Tom and Matt snap to attention.

“Sir, we may not have the materials to make it,” Tom warned.

“I’ll have to see for myself” was the only reply to come from Tord.

“Dismissed.” Both generals turned to leave the office.

Red stood up and took a deep breath

_Deep breath in, deep breath out._

He’s going to beat Edd’s ass if it’s the last thing he does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that this is kinda short and if the formatting is kinda weird, but yeah. tords pissed lmao


	4. Hey there comrade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> howdy bitch you look familiar

The smooth saxophone music echoed throughout the dining area as the sounds of rain slowed in their volume and frequency. There was a general calm in everyone that night. Tord gazed out into the city, watching the building lights and the occasional headlights of a car rolling by.

Tord’s headache was almost completely calmed while he let himself get lost in the moment. However, he was quickly snapped out of his daydreaming while a voice cut through the atmosphere.

“Attention Everyone! We will be closing in about 45 minutes! The kitchen has shut down and alcoholic drinks are being stored away. If there are left-overs, we have boxes available!”

Tord let out a low groan as he realized he didn’t have anywhere to go. He mulled over his options for a bit.

_Maybe I’ll go behind a dumpster? There might be something I can crawl under. Maybe I have enough for a cheap motel? Hell, I’d take sleeping on cum stains rather than sleep outside. What if I-_

“Hey there Buddy.”

Tord’s head jerked up in surprise when he heard it. He looked over to see a tall man in a black trench coat. He looked up to see that the Man was incredibly tall, with broad shoulders and what seemed to be the beginning of a beard growing on his face. His deep golden brown eyes were almost hidden by his long and shaggy brown hair. It seemed as though the man hadn’t slept in _months_ judging by the deep dark rings under his eyes. His expression seemed neutral, with a slight crook in his jaw. _Probably was broken a while back._

Tord finally registered the sentence that was spoken and gave out the most appropriate reply.

“What the-who the…what?”

The man standing next to him chuckled in amusement. His lidded eyes seemed like he knew what he was doing.

_Like he knew who he was talking to._

Tord immediately panicked, and tried to put on his best poker face. The man however, chuckled again while raising an eyebrow.

“Relax Tord, I’m not a cop,” the man replied in a low and quiet voice. His words contained an English accent to them. Something about his voice sent shivers down Tord’s spine.

There was something so _familiar_ about him.

The Englishman obviously knew Tord’s background. The Norse man decided to start questioning.

“Who the hell are you? Were you following me? Why are yo-“ Tord was shushed by the Stranger. Tord looked up into his eyes.

Somewhere, behind that calm look, was annoyance. The stranger’s tone did not falter as he spoke again.

“Your army pals kicked you out, didn’t they? Harsh. You got anywhere to stay for the night _comrade_?” The last word of his inquiry was spoken in a cynical manner.

Tord was completely floored. He had no idea on how to respond to the stranger. He had no guns, no knives, no army, his left eye and ear didn’t work anymore, and his Left arm is nothing but a mechanical prosthetic. Although it came with retractable spikes under the knuckles, Tord had barely any idea on how to activate them. He was cornered.

Tord’s fear must have been present on his face, because the Stranger’s face began to soften. He put his hands up reassuringly as he continued.

“Look, I know you’re obviously pretty infamous, but I’m not here to hurt you. Do you have anywhere to stay for the night?” The Stranger’s voice contained no malice, but it wasn’t enough to sooth Tord’s nerves.

“What are you, looking for a one-night stand? Or is that just a shitty disguise the cops gave to you?” Tord hissed out while backing up. His eye quickly looking onto either side of him for a possible exit.

The Stranger smirked and replied, “Well if I were, don’t you think I’d locate a gay bar instead of this diner? And If I were a cop, wouldn’t I have tackled you to the ground by now, and like 10 police cars show up?”

Tord paused, mentally examining the reply that was given to him. Edd decided it was best to let the terrorist know he wasn’t alone

“You know, I’m something of a felon myself. I know damn well you don’t have an entire army behind you anymore, but I like to think that I’m not stupid enough to try and murder you. We both have guns mate.”

Tord watched the man carefully, as if he were scanning him for lies. Tord did not have any weapon on him, but it _seemed_ as though the man did not know that.

After a brief and awkward silence, Tord let out a sigh and spoke.

“So, you want me to come home with you? Why? How can I trust that you won’t hurt me?” Edd simply shrugged and replied, “I’ve been there man, and I know how you feel. Not only that, but you’re not the only poor bastard the Red Army fucked over because you weren’t useful to them anymore. You may not have noticed it, but my legs aren’t exactly normal.”

Tord looked down to inspect the Stranger’s legs. He didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, until the Englishman pulled a pant leg up.

Tord’s eyes widened as he saw the metal gleaming off the prosthetic.

He leaned back, and a dry chuckle left his body as he pondered the absurdity of it all.

Two comrades, crippled by a disaster and left to rot by the Red Army. Meeting in a diner. At the same time.

Tord let out a groan as he stood up and faced the man.

“Well shit, lead the way.”

Edd decided this “Past” Tord was more tolerable compared to the one he has to put up with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> now edd has to figure out where hes gonna go cuz that bitch dont live anywhere yet lmao
> 
> also!! my hc is that edd didnt just grow taller but he fucked up and now he has robot legs so yeet


End file.
